


That Escalated Quickly

by ZombieReine



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-22
Updated: 2014-12-22
Packaged: 2018-03-02 22:05:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2827673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZombieReine/pseuds/ZombieReine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I cannot believe you killed Santa Clause."<br/>"You're making this out to be worse than it actually is, Granger."<br/>"Riddle, you killed Santa Clause."</p>
            </blockquote>





	That Escalated Quickly

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LadyMiya](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyMiya/gifts), [Tomione_Forum](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tomione_Forum/gifts).



> **Disclaimer:** This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by J.K. Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros. Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
> 
>  **A/N:** This story was written for the Tomione Forum Secret Santa 2014.

 

**That Escalated Quickly**

 

It was a mystery to Hermione how she ended up in some of the situations she did. She was a model student while in school, she graduated at the top of her class in Uni, and she was immediately offered her dream job at the Ministry.

So why was it that trouble always followed her wherever she went?

The thought had already crossed her time, and even escaped from her mouth, numerous times during the last five minutes. It was enough to make her want to just give up, go home, change into the rattiest pair of sweats she had, and just curl up on the couch forgetting the phrase"Christmas Office Party" ever existed.

But no, instead, she was still here, very much awake and still in her expensive blue and silver robes, standing next to the last person she ever wanted to talk to.

"I cannot believe you killed Santa Clause." She finally broke the silence, her voice slightly panicked. There was no way she was going to get out of this scot-free, not with Riddle involved, knowing him he would probably find some way to make her responsible for everything. Children all around the world would start screaming for her head and violent public execution tomorrow.

"You're making this out to be worse than it actually is, Granger." Tom Riddle, Minister of Magic and all around beloved genius, was as calm and Hermione wasn't. The evil git probably killed kittens as a nightly ritual, it wasn't a wonder to Hermione that the death of such a beloved and important Holiday figure who was thought immortal among WIzard and Muggle kind alike, didn't phase him.

"Riddle, you killed Santa Clause." She stopped staring at the prone figure dressed in red to focus all her attention on him instead, "You bloody toss-pot. I'm going to be executed, and if I escape that, assassinated. All I wanted was a bloody cup of spiced wine, but no, for Christmas I get to be incarcerated because I happened to be in the vicinity of the Minister when he got the hankering to kill a beloved public figure."

He looked at her, a single eyebrow raised, mouth quirked in amusement, "And you're so sure you'll be the one to take the fall?"

Duh. Her expression said it all, but still she felt the need to clarify, "You really expect me to believe you would take the blame here when you could just get rid of two Cornish pixies with one spell? We both know the feelings of dislike are mutual and if you had half the chance you would have gotten rid of me the day I stepped foot into this building. Who better than to take the fall for this." She waved a hand at the dead man still sprawled on the ground.

"Calm down, Granger, I'm not going to make you take the fall." His hand gave her back a pat as he tried to soothe her before she gave in to hysterics.

She gave him a look of disbelief, had she heard that right?

"I'm going to cover up the whole unfortunate incident, make it seem like nothing ever happened, and in return you're going to help me out with a couple of. . . projects in the near future." His smile grew wicked, "In return for my help and silence on this matter."

A sound, very much like that of a growl, sounded from her, "And what are you going to do when billions of kids wake up without presents tomorrow and people begin to realize Santa went missing and that the last place he was seen was here, after you personally invited him to thank him for his service." She looked at him suspicious, "Merlin, you planned this didn't you."

She yanked at her hair, internally moaning at her bad luck, "You scheming jerk. You invited Santa Clause, probably to figure out the secret to his immortality or some other ancient magical secret, when he refused or perhaps after you discovered the secret you somehow managed to murder him. But you waited until I was here, because you hate my guts, but for some reason need my help in something likely to be illegal and knew the only way to gain my cooperation was to threaten me with framing me for murder."

During her mini, and very paranoid sounding tirade, he kept silent, "Can't say I'm surprised you found out my plan, so I guess explaining your situation here isn't needed."

She snorted, "Hardly."

Well, Hermione was sure given time she would wriggle out of his plans, but time right now wasn't something she had. Especially since the wizarding world had no idea just how evil their precious leading politician was with his 'spotless' background. Pah, what disgusted her the most was until Hermione had become his Undersecretary she hadn't realized how horrid the man was. Sure she had had some idea, nobody was as innocent and perfect as they make themselves out to be, but Hermione never would have before guessed how rotten he was to the core.

Basically blaming everything on the underling wouldn't be that far of a stretch if he wanted to ruin her life.

"Good, now then, on to more important matters. First of all, we should dispose of the body. Do you want the feet or the arms?"

"Can't you just transfigure him into a leaf and burn him or something." She didn't want to even begin considering the fact that she was discussing how to get rid of the corpse of Santa Clause on Christmas Eve. Not even a little.

"You were doing so well." He shook his head, dark eyes full of pity and disappointment, "I thought you were head of your class? Surely you must know that no form of magic would work on Santa, not even after his death."

Bypassing the obvious question in rebuttal, how did he kill Santa without magic, Hermione simply grabbed Santa Clause's legs, "I'm almost afraid to ask, but how are we going to get him out of here without being seen."

"Well, we're not going to carry him out, that's for sure. Why are you grabbing his legs?" The corner of his mouth twitched as he tried to keep his face straight, meanwhile her face was turning red in rage.

She was going to murder him. Slowly. Then make it look like he ran off with Santa Clause so they could become lovers.

"Then what was the point of asking me whether I wanted feet or arms?"

"To see if you would actually try to carry a 300 pound man through the Ministry Lobby."

Yes. Hermione was definitely going to kill him. After he helped her get rid of the first dead body.

"All right, now that I've amused you, just how are we doing this?" The words were curt and showed just how close to snapping the witch was.

He ignored her question and instead began stripping the large, dead man of his clothes.

"Are you so poor you need to strip Santa of his possessions, adding insult to injury, before disposing of the evidence?"

When he tensed at the word poor Hermione felt a small victory in somehow managing to hit a nerve, but the feeling didn't last long, "No, you're going to help me dispose of the body, and then help me deliver presents as Santa Clause so that by the time people realize he went missing next year it'll be far too late to point the finger at my innocent self. Which means you're also safe from being accused of accessory to murder."

"A murder that I still have no idea how you committed."

"Semantics, now, first thing is first." He drew his wand after divesting the legendary Saint of his clothes, "Since magic wont work and we can't leave any evidence of foul play by leaving a body or even scraps of a body to be found, we'll have to _improvise_."

Merlin help her, this man knew how to draw things out. You'd think he'd spend more time getting crap done rather than talking, but nooo, the great Minister of Magic, His Lordship Tom Riddle, loved to hear the sound of his voice far too much. Thank goodness, after working for the man the last couple of years, Hermione was used to it.

Even if the man annoyed her, he was her boss and she would be damned if she did anything less than her best. Which was probably one of the many unknown reasons as to why he allowed her to see his darker side.

"This is what you meant by improvising?" Hermione deadpanned, looking up at the large mythical creature that had supposedly died out many millennium ago, "You're going to feed Santa Clause to that thing."

"And then set it loose on the Ministry long enough to create a distraction so we can go gallivanting around the world, bringing joy and wonder to children everywhere."

"You are insane."

"They say all geniuses are." He seemed completely unphased as the large Tyranasaurus Rex began devouring Santa.

"I think I'm going to be sick."

He transfigured a rubbish bin from a potted plant for her, and though she did indeed start gagging at the sight before her, she managed to not toss her cookies.

"All done?" He seemed quite chipper, probably basking in her misery.

Composing herself Hermione drew her own wand and wordlessly began scourgifying the hallway, in case someone were to come by and see the bloody mess. Not that they'd probably actually notice considering the _giant freaking dinosaur rampaging throughout the Ministry_.

Minister Riddle, satisfied, began to walk away, still carrying the red suit he had looted off his victim.

"You are a horrible human being."

"You'll break my heart, Granger." He sounded anything but broken hearted.

She rolled her eyes in disgust, "Please, you don't have a heart. If you did you never would have allowed Bill 2634 to pass. You may have tricked the populace but I know that when it comes down to it you're doing more harm than good in forcing the genealogy devision to keep a detailed record of every muggle-born family for at least five generations back."

"It's Christmas Eve, must you always talk about work? Let's take a moment to enjoy the beautiful night."

"Just put on the suit so we can get this over with." With arms crossed she patiently waited for him to do just that, not even batting an eyelash as the red outfit automatically adjusted to fit his frame. It was obviously imbued with some form of magic, let's just hope _it_ wasn't the secret to immortality. The thought of Riddle being able to live forever was a scary one, one she had tried to not think about since she had accidentally saw his research on it one day.

Maybe she should just be happy he hadn't actually been reduced to making Horcruxes yet. At least she hoped he hadn't.

"Great, you look the part, and you have his magic bag, so now what. Go to every house and hope we get the right present?" This part genuinely did make her a bit curious. She had always imagined Santa's bag to hold some sort of magic, like her own beaded bag she made to keep all her most important books on her along with some potions and odd bits.

His condescending attitude returned with a vengeance, "Not quite, there is an order to things. He didn't bring his sleigh, instead he floo'd to the Ministry, so we'll have to ride brooms from house to house, only going to the ones on the list. However, trying to figure out which presents go where  would take too long, so we're going to just choose at random. Little brats should be thankful they're getting anything."

"If you say so, I just want to get this night over with and forget anything ever happened."

"Such cruel words, one would almost think you didn't love me." He pouted, his hair falling down to shadow his already dark eyes giving him an almost evil look. Mixed with the costume it was very. . . disconcerting.

Before the duo could leave to bring Christmas joy, however, a very loud chorus of screams began to erupt from within the Ministry, namely, where the party had been taking place.

"Riddle. . . Please, _please,_ tell me that you didn't make the tyranosaurus immune to magic and physical damage." Hermione couldn't help but ask, it sounded like something he would do.

"We needed the distraction to last long enough so that nobody would ask questions or notice our absence." He seemed a bit put out, as if she should have already guessed as much and was just wasting their time.

"Well, right now, there is a dinosaur wreaking havoc on your Ministry, probably eating a couple of them." She sent him a look, "A dinosaur that is eating your employees, and already ate Santa Clause, and therefore we really don't need to go around delivering presents because your excuse for his disappearance is out there. Devouring what looks to be the Head  of the Department of Mysteries."

"The dinosaur ate Howard? Can't say I'm sad about the manner, but you have a point." He vanished the outfit and bag, once more wearing just his robes. He probably sent the items to his house for later study, or that was at least what Hermione would have done in his position.

Hermione honestly couldn't say she was sad to see Howard go either, and while guilt gnawed at her for that comment, she refused to mentally take it back. He had been an absolute prick, good at his job, but unbearable all the same.

"So how are you going to go save the day, Minister."

"In style." He flashed her a smile and went to go help subdue the rampaging lizard, in what Hermione had to reluctantly agree was a very cool manner.

She also silently watched as he managed to effortlessly place all the blame on the Department of Mysteries, claiming Howard had been doing research on mixing magic with muggle science and the bloodthirsty dinosaur had been the result. Thus, putting all the blame on Santa's death on the man as well, leaving himself to be the hero of the hour.

"You're just lucky that all your idiotic planning paid off." She muttered, turning her back on the disgusting display to head home and crawl into bed. Maybe when she woke up the next day this would all turn out to be some bizarre and weird dream.

"I heard that, and we're not done discussing our deal yet, I do remember you agreeing to help me with a few projects in the near future. I think I should discuss the first one with you."

Shame, she had almost forgotten about that, and she had hoped he would have to, wishful thinking considering he had never seemed the type to forget things that worked to his advantage. But, with all the craziness that managed to be stuffed into the past 30 minutes and rapid continuous change of plans. . .

"All right then, Riddle, what are we going to do."

"Try and take over the world."

Hermione gasped, placing her hand on her heart, "So original, so unforseen. I cannot bear to stand in the presence of such brilliance much longer." The sarcasm was not appreciated.

"All right then, Riddle, what are we going to do."

"Try and take over the world."

Hermione gasped, placing her hand on her heart, "So original, so unforeseen. I cannot bear to stand in the presence of such brilliance much longer." The sarcasm was not appreciated.

"All right then," she relented under his grumpy demeanor, "How are you going to take over the world and why do I need to help." As if she would help.

"Dinosaurs, Hermione, dinosaurs. I've already discovered the secret to immortality, now all I need is an army of ferocious monsters to help me subjugate muggle and wizardkind alike."

She was so done with him right now, and since when did he think it was okay to use her first name? Maybe she should have dipped into the spiked eggnog after all.

"Of course you can always change your mind and refuse to help me, I would understand."

"I'm just supposed to take your word for it? There has to be a catch, there always has been with you. Just because I spent the last five years pretending I didn't know what you were up to. . . "

He rolled his eyes at her, "As if, you never would have even seen a hint if I hadn't wanted you to. As for the catch, well, I never said there wasn't one. You're free to refuse to help me, you can even tell whoever you want, nobody would believe you and I'm afraid that the first people to go would have to be your friends and family. You know, stereotypical villain things."

Hermione sighed, before deadpanning, "Of course," a sigh that showed she had given in once more made his eyes gleam in triumph, "Well  then, what do I get out of it if I do agree to help you. You wouldn't have asked unless you really needed something from me."

"I just didn't want to have to go through the trouble of finding a new underling who was competent and bearable to be around."

Taking his word for it, because it was easy to over think when it came to his future majesty of the world, the two began a lengthy discussion and wrote out a contract that both intended to follow in order to keep peace at least between themselves.

Hermione wouldn't admit it but she really hadn't tried as hard as she could to dissuade him, yes, nobody would have believed her. Tom RIddle would have swooped the wizarding world off it's feet no matter what she did, but at least this way she could have a say in helping to change the future for the better.

And Riddle? Well, he got his second in command that wasn't disturbingly obsessed over him, or an idiot. As a matter of fact she was extremely intelligent and competent, something he had seen in her when she was hired and helped to cultivate. Every moment they had spent together until this moment had been planned, from their general dislike of the other on day one to her catching him the moment after his murder of Santa Clause.

Still, he had more planning to do, Hermione didn't know it yet but the future Emperor of the World was setting the stage for his second evil project. This one involving in her surrendering her everything to him. It may take another five years of plotting, and perhaps another dinosaur rampage, but in the end her heart would be his.

\---------------------------------------------------------------

Hermione sat up gasping, her curls sticking to sweat-slicked skin as she took in her surroundings, her heart beating fast and chest heaving with shaky breaths. She stood up with some difficulty, her protruding belly making it difficult to move around with the same ease as before. Slowly she made her way to the kitchen to make herself a nice hot pot of tea to help warm herself and get rid of the cottony feeling in her mouth.

As the water boiled she made her way to sit at the kitchen table, her brain was foggy and her mind couldn't recall what had terrified her so much.

It wasn't until a hand was gently shaking her that Hermione realized she had even dozed off, her husband looking at her worried, "Darling, you fell asleep with the kettle burning. Is everything all right?"

"I think it's just stress." She tried to soothe his own worries, no sense having him fuss over a dream she had, "Now that it's Christmas I should be able to relax a bit."

He seemed skeptical but took her word for it, instead moving to make her a cup of tea, with just a bit of milk and honey, the way she liked it, "It had been a hard week, I wish you would take a break from work, especially with you being so far along. . . " His eyes drifted to her belly, dark eyes softening.

"You know as well as I that politics never take a break, not for the Holidays and not for pregnancy." She took the mug gratefully and patted his hand, "You're sweet to worry. It reminds me of the day we met."

Suddenly she frowned, was that right? Her mind began to grow fuzzy again, Hermione couldn't remember when she met her husband. The healer her husband had hired specifically just for her had said that some memory loss during pregnancy might be normal. . .

"The day we met, the third best day of my life." He mused, getting the reaction he wanted when a glint entered her eyes, "Only third?"

"The second and first of course being the day we married and you told me you were pregnant." His voice was teasing, "Now, finish your cuppa and we'll go back to bed."

She obeyed him, Hermione could never say no to her husband. She never wanted to say no to him.

"Merry Christmas, Tom."

"Merry Christmas." Hermione closed her eyes, not noticing the way her husband stared at her as she fell into a deep sleep, nor noticing the hungry, possessive look he gave her.

Hermione would wake up the next morning, never suspecting how much of a lie her life had become, or how much she was being used by her possessive, power-hungry husband who used her to help take over the world.

She would also never remember her dream, she never did remember her dreams. They were always odd, involving some sort of nonsense best forgotten. Hermione would never realize they were actually created by her subconscious desperately trying to warn her, save her.

But Hermione was past wanting to be saved, even if her husband would let her.


End file.
